Of Mishaps and Malfoy
by Revels In Mischief
Summary: After a Potions mishap forces Hermione and Draco to re-attempt their assignment, Hermione still can't seem to focus. Do pay attention in Potions Class students, or the consequences might be quite...pleasant?
1. Chapter 1

**Of Mishaps and Malfoy**

"Really Ronald, it's quite simple. If you had actually taken the time to jot a few notes in class, we wouldn't be having this discussion," Hermione admonished, hastening her steps into the potions classroom. She headed for the first desk, eager to alleviate her arms of the cumbersome stack of books.

"But Hermioneee…" Ron whined, shuffling behind her as Harry half-heartedly trailed after them. "I need your help - just this once. Let me _borrow_ your notes, and I'll give them right back! For an hour, _tops_."

Growing increasingly more agitated with his whining, Hermione shot a glare in his direction before turning her attention back to her work station. "For the last time Ron. No. I won't do all the work for every class, just so you can _choose _not to pay attention," she quipped, taking time to further organize her items on the desk. It seemed that day after day she was picking up more of Ron's slack and she had just about reached her breaking point. This time, she determined, would be different.

Ron pouted, a look that she had once found endearing but now found irritating. He clearly wasn't picking up on her cues. "You never-"

"That's enough Ronald!" she exclaimed, flopping into her seat dejectedly.

"Oh my… Trouble in paradise for the Golden Trio?" a haughty voice came from behind Ron and Harry.

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed Ron's sleeve, tugging him toward the only available table a few rows back from Hermione. "Oh, lay off Malfoy. Come on Ron."

Draco smirked at their retreating backs, though his smile fell almost immediately. Hermione followed his line of sight and saw that Crabbe and Goyle had paired up at the farthest table. His frown deepened as Theodore slid in next to Blaise. Her eyes glanced around the room and she groaned. "Great," she muttered under her breath as she realized the predicament they were now facing. Draco stood rigidly next to her seat, glancing down at Hermione with no noticeable expression on his face. Clearing his throat, he wordlessly urged her to scoot over. Rubbing the bridge of her nose before sighing, Hermione slid from her aisle seat to the one closest to the stone wall of the classroom, keeping her eyes downcast to her books on the desk. The attempt to keep a grasp on her last nerve of the day was quickly waning. Casting a quick _Tempus_, she felt a her head throb as she read 10:58 a.m. If this was how today was going to go, Hermione regretted her decision to get out of bed this morning.

The door slammed open as Professor Snape glided into the classroom, seemingly oblivious - or indifferent - to the glaring tension between his students.

Reaching the front of the room, he began his condescending speech of the day. "While emphasis is placed on the importance of _following_ instructions every class, I feel as though _some _students may need me to reaffirm this point before beginning this next potion," Professor Snape flatly stated, staring blatantly at Neville Longbottom. "Much as I do every time we meet. Perhaps today will be a first - Dare I ask for two hours with no major malfunctions?"

Hermione's eyes began to glaze over at the professor's droning voice - a dangerous habit she worried was becoming more frequent as her workload increased and her spats with Ronald became nastier with each word exchanged.

Drawn back into the present by the sound of chairs scraping stone and scuffling footsteps, she noticed students were gathering different items throughout the classroom. Draco was staring at her once again, an indifferent expression upon his face. Glancing up at the board she quickly took in _Compellere Liquidus, page 467_ in Professor Snape's familiar scrawl.

'_Well…Com…to drive…pellere…. together….and Liquidius…obviously liquid…simple enough…." _Hermione flipped through to the appropriate page in her book, all the while feeling Draco's eyes boring into her.

"What?" she blurted, feeling a heat rise in her cheeks.

"Nothing," Draco murmured standing, raising one eyebrow curiously. "I'll collect the necessary ingredients, if you'd be so kind as to retrieve a silver cauldron."

Making quick work of their tasks, the two worked together in silence, carefully reading the directions. They took turns adding ingredients and stirring at the appropriate time, each lost in their own thoughts.

Hermione's attention was slowly drawn to whispers behind her. Listening astutely, she could make out two familiar, particularly loud voices.

"I'm telling you Harry, she is absolutely mental. You would've thought I-

"Shh Ron! She'll hear you!" Harry hissed, his attempt at being subtle lost as she made out his words with ease.

Ron persisted, dropping the volume of his voice minutely. "We've done so much for her. If it weren't for us, she wouldn't have any friends. She's a nightmare, really—"

Hermione whipped around, her own voice a high-pitched screech. "Ronald Weasley, I have had enough!"

"Hermione, don't make a scene," his eyes darted around the room, landing on a few of their peers who had stopped working to watch the events unfolding.

_BANG!_

Professor Snape was in front of Hermione and Draco's desk in mere seconds, a scowl on his face, wand at the ready. He had placed a Containment Charm around what would've been an vile explosion of ominous purple sludge. After vanishing the half-finished potion, he barked "25 points from Gryffindor, for an obvious misdirection of attention! Had I allowed this potion to react to the indifferent neglect, Miss. Granger, I think you would've found the result to be quite…_unpleasant_," he sneered, his vision shifting from Hermione to Draco. "Class dismissed…except for the both of you."

"But I didn't do anything Professor," Ron bemoaned from the back of the class.

Snape looked at Ron with obvious distaste. "Not you, Mr. Weasley. But thank you for the reminder - 15 points from Gryffindor for distracting classmates during a serious assignment. I expect two feet of parchment by next class on why you should _respect _the delicate nature of potions. Now everyone out."

Ron huffed as he followed Harry and the other Gryffindors out of the classroom. Hermione stared dejectedly down at her hands as she wrung them anxiously.. Draco shifted, leaning against the desk behind him as he crossed his arms and frowned.

As the door closed, Professor Snape returned his attention to the two students before him, his pinched brow relaxing slightly. "I expected better from you Miss Granger. Moreso from you Mr. Malfoy. Given the involvement of a _distracting_ third party I will allow you both to rebrew this potion. But be mindful, I will NOT be doing this again. The top students should be producing expertly produced potions, not getting easily distracted by such nonsense. You have one hour," Professor Snape directed before striding out the doors to the classroom.

An awkward silence filled the empty classroom as both students stood, unsure what to do in that very moment.

Hermione swallowed hard, avoiding her counterpart's eyes. Shame flooded her; she'd failed not only herself, but her partner. Malfoy or not, he deserved better than to have her distracted to the point of ruining assignments. "Look Malfoy…I'm sorry I-"

"Don't," Draco interrupted, putting his hand up to silence her. "Weasley is an idiot. You shouldn't let him get to you like that."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "Are-are you being…_nice_? To _me_?"

"Don't read too much into this Granger. I'm just stating a fact," Draco sneered before slipping down the aisle to the ingredients cupboard.

Shaking her head, Hermione moved to the shelf where she retrieved a fresh cauldron and they fell into their previous brewing pattern.

_Chop._

_Splash._

_Stir._

_Crunch._

_Splash._

_Stir._

Repeat.

Her thoughts drifted to her redheaded best friend. She was fed up with him using her. And the things he had _said _about her. "He's always like that you know," she blurted aloud. "And it's just so frustrating! You'd think, just _once_, I'd be appreciated or…or…" Draco silently continued adding ingredients and whether he was listening or not she was unsure, but she continued. "Just this once, I want someone - _anyone - _ to appreciate what I've done, what I _can_ do," Hermione ended with a shout, stomping her foot for emphasis at the end.

Draco didn't respond as he tossed crushed lacewing flies into the cauldron. She could feel the embarrassment welling once more as she let her eyes trace over his face, looking for a twitch or a grimace or anything to indicate whether he'd even heard what she said. '_He must think I'm mental.' _

Hermione may have feigned obliviousness in regards to the opposite sex to circumvent the aggressive prying by the girls of Gryffindor tower, but she was no longer ignorant to the "right of passage" that was sex. She'd ventured, somewhat innocently, into the world of adult novels; occasionally snogged a boy or two during her summers at home; and, most recently, had given herself completely to Viktor Krum after the Yule ball. She took in his gently furrowed brow as he added a teaspoon of golden substance to the cauldron. '_Honey,' _her mind supplied before he turned to face her.

"Granger, it's absolute rubbish that he makes you- _Wait!_"

The concerned look on his face was momentarily distracting - a moment too long, however. She added the final ingredient, failing to wait the required three minutes after the honey was added. "_Fuck!_" Hermione exclaimed as steaming hot potion splashed up onto her wrist.

Draco hastily grabbed her wrist, dragging her over to the nearest sink. With a flick of his wand, cold water ran out of the faucet and he shoved her wrist under it. "What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" Draco quietly demanded, examining her wrist for further developing injury.

Hermione stared, dazed and distracted, at where he delicately held her hand and forearm to better examine her wrist. A liquid heat begin to roll from the burn on her arm, up and over her shoulders and then draped over her body like a second skin. Slight pressure began to build in her lower stomach, a heat from just below the band of her skirt that increased at an incredible speed. Unsure of what to do or say, she subtly rubbed her thighs together to alleviate the pressure.

"You need to be more careful," Draco breathed from his position beside her. Electricity ran down her spine as she held in a gasp, the heat from his mouth licking sinfully over the edge of her ear.

"_Draco,_" Hermione moaned, unable to voice what was happening. She felt as though all of her nerves were firing at once, like he was touching her everywhere, just from an innocent caress over the pulsepoint in her -

"Wait, Draco, Wait!" Hermione moaned. "My wrist; the potion, you've been exposed!"

His eyes fluttered down, dazed, at where he had been absently massaging the potion on her arm, skin-on-skin.

Their lips began to gravitate to each other and, as their eyes drifted shut, met with the gently wisp of their tongues. Draco slid his hand around her back as he gently turned her, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers intertwining with the hair at the nape of his neck. Their mouths danced with each other; lips, teeth, and tongue caressing and pushing as though choreographed. Draco's hands slid down Hermione's back and sides, pressing her against him, before grasping her arse by the handful. With little effort, he lifted her up and gently laid her across the table behind them.

As he removed his tie, his lips traveled away from her mouth and over the soft curve of her jaw, traveling from behind her ear to her neck. He lapped, sucked, and nipped as she softly moaned, arching her back and allowing one hand to caress her own body in an attempt to smother the scorching flame of arousal. She noticed when his long fingers deftly began to unbutton her shirt, sliding button to button at a steady, well-rehearsed speed. When she felt the flame of Fiendfyre lick at her bare skin, she realized he had taken off his shirt and it was his flesh searing hers.

He draped himself over, his arms on either side of her head as his hips shifted forward with a slow, sensual dip. Her hands grappled for purchase she tried to find somewhere to grasp, any way to pull him closer, anything to cap the heat. A moan pushed its way from her core, up and out of her mouth as he continued to grind his clothed hips against her. She lifted her legs and circled them around his hips, her skirt bunching around her own. His hands slid down over her thighs, prying them apart gently as his mouth moved down to her chest, her skin burning in his wake. He quickly began undoing his belt, dragon hide shifting from loop to loop before he slid it away with one long pull.

Dropping it somewhere beside them, the buckle clanked against the stone floor. His mouth enveloped one of her nipples as she threw her head back and gasped. When he felt as though one side had been lavished sufficiently, he allowed himself to switch to the other side. The gradual increase of burning compulsion pulled them deeper into the haze of their lust.

The fog that had settled in her brain seemed similar to everything she had read about the Imperius Curse. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew what she was doing was all wrong, who she was doing this with was all wrong. But she was drawn to Draco, like a moth to flame. He seemed to be having the same internal battle between knowing the implications of their actions and not giving a damn about the consequences. Pulling away with a slight intake of breath, Draco shifted up then lowered his lips to her ear. "Hermione. _Hermione_… Tell me stop…Beg me to quit and I will. Just tell me and I'll try-"

"No," Hermione panted, aghast that he should even suggest such an action. "Don't. Please don't stop - don't leave me like this!I can't….I won't…."

"_Dividere!"_

Draco and Hermione flew apart, landing with gentle thumps on opposite sides of the classroom. Temporarily distracted, they glanced to where the voice had bellowed from, taking in the sight of Professor Snape. His face was screwed into the picture of discomfort and anger.

"Get dressed - quickly. We need to get to the Hospital Wing immediately. And do keep your hands to yourselves. I will not hesitate to petrify you both, if necessary."

Hermione tore her eyes away from the Potions professor to look back at Draco. The predatory stare he fixed on her, one laden with sinful promise - sent a shiver down her spine as she watched him pull his belt through the loops. Snape was standing between them, his wand in hand, seemingly trying to determine whether the pair would pounce on one another again.

As he pushed the students out of the class and down the hallway, the tension between the two was palpable. If Snape hadn't come in when he did they would've-

No matter. Surely Madam Pomfrey could cure them of this ailment…

* * *

Author's Note: To my beloved Beta, TheMourningMadam- thank you for everything; you've helped me get started doing something I love and have been wanting to do for quite some time. Here's to our growing friendship!


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Attention readers, __**this chapter does contain some Dub-Con**__, so if that isn't your "thing", perhaps this fic isn't for you. Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments; I am overjoyed to see people enjoying my first story. Also, another very special thanks to the very beautiful and talented TheMourningMadam for being my Beta for this story, and one of my dearest friends. Enjoy!_

Of Mishaps and Malfoy

Chapter 2

Hermione took in the beams along the ceiling of the hospital wing as she lay in the bed. Pulses ran through her body, the side effects of the potion. Being separated from Draco helped her focus.

Now if only she could get out of these _damned_ bindings.

After one-to-many grabs at Draco, Madam Pomfrey had seen fit to bind her hands to the rungs in the headboard and her feet together at the end of the bed. At least she had taken the time to close the curtains so Hermione could maintain some semblance of dignity.

She could hear Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape talking in rapid, hushed whispers, but she could not make out what they were saying. Draco was somewhere in this room as well— she could _feel _him. The witch tried not to think about it, lest her thoughts get the best of her.

The curtains were pulled back with a snap and the flustered face of Madam Pomfrey appeared, along with the deep scowl of Professor Snape. "Well this is a fine mess the both of you have gotten yourselves in," she began, pursing her lips. "And I am afraid the Professor and I don't have the best of news."

"Ah yes the trivialities of youth," Professor Snape sneered, his tone completely devoid of sympathy. "It seems that, because the spill came from a poorly brewed potion, I am not able to give you the antidote."

"So…so we are _stuck_ like this?" Hermione cried, eyes wide as she took in the implications.

"No silly girl," Madam Pomfrey lightly chastised. She took the time to adjust the pillow below Hermione's head. "Mr. Malfoy and yourself will simply have to wait for the symptoms to pass. Professor Snape and I are inclined to believe that this might last only two, maybe three days."

"_Three days?_ But this is horrid!"

"Hush now and try your best to relax. I will come and check on you both later. We are going to go discuss this with the Headmaster and I will return with your dinner shortly thereafter." Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape took their leave after shuttering the curtains.

Hermione shifted awkwardly on the bed trying to find a comfortable position, but to no avail. Between her bound appendages and the heat radiating from head to toe, she could find no relief.

A loud crash startled her, followed by the quiet tapping of bare feet drawing closer and closer. "H..Hello?" Hermione whispered. Draco's face appeared abruptly as he peeked through her curtains, hair mussed by their previous encounter and his own struggles. "May I come in?" he whispered, his voice husky. She took in his appearance—he still seemed to be suffering as she was, but was far better at controlling it. She nodded her consent, afraid how her own voice might sound if she spoke.

He eased forward and sat at the edge of her bed. Taking in her current state of being bound, he consciously averted his eyes to his hands. "So they've told you then?" he inquired, examining his nails.

"Yes," Hermione whispered, becoming aware of his body, though there were inches between them.

Draco finally glanced up at her, emotions flickering across his face before it settled on that of want and hesitance. His hand grazed her side, barely touching, his eyes fluttering as she silently gasped. He shifted forward delicately, coming within inches of her face and he moved his hand to cup her face. "Hermione, look at me."

Her eyes drifted open; she hadn't noticed that they'd been closed until now. "Tell me you want to wait, that you wished this had never happened, and I'll return to my side of the room. We can pretend like this never happened, I'll pretend like it wasn't foolish of Snape to not bind me like you've been bound. We can go back to the way things were before and the next time we see each other will be days from now when we've fully recovered."

"I don't know. I-"

Draco leaned in closer to whisper in her ear, his hand dancing over her thigh once more. "Or tell me to end this. To help us both through this so we don't have to _suffer_ for three damn days. I don't know what will happen after this, but-"

She silenced him with a kiss. Draco returned it enthusiastically as he lifted himself over her, placing his hands on either side of her head to balance. "Eager are we," he gently mocked, smirking as he took in her dazed smile.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"Ah ah," Draco jokingly reprimanded. He lifted his hand to firmly, yet carefully, grip her jaw. Using his grasp to tilt her head up, he whispered into her neck, "such language is unbefitting of a member of the Golden Trio." He followed his words with a firm nip.

Hermione fully intended to shoot back a biting retort, but instead the words "_Draco, please,"_ left her mouth with a rush of air.

Draco's lips froze against her neck, a groan leaving his mouth as he dropped his head to lean against her chest. His hips to pressed into her, and he was no longer oblivious to the ache in his groin. "If you talk to me like that, this will end _very_ quickly, Granger."

"Well isn't that the point?" Doe eyes blinked up at him in confusion, her chest heaving with the effort of attempting to speak through the sensations racking her body.

He sat back for a minute, straddling her legs, his expression unsure as he considered the position they were currently in. "Granger, do you want this? As in, _truly_ want _this_," he asked with a frown.

Hermione's expression mirrored his as she hesitantly countered his question with one of her own. "Well, do _you_?"

Rubbing his head, Draco's nimble fingers untied the restraints around her wrists. Carefully lowering her stiff arms, he answered, "I'd never force myself upon you if it isn't something you don't want. Like I said before, I can just leave you alone, and we can pretend this never happened. I may be a absolute arse sometimes, but I am not a complete bastard Hermione. Potion or not."

_A vague answer._ Her eyes took in his guarded expression, then glanced to where he had been subconsciously caressing her wrists. Impressions of the cloth Pomfrey had used to restrain her ran parallel to where she had been burned not but an hour earlier.

She'd never seen Draco like this—so commanding, yet desperate and _unrestrained_. Things had changed between them this year. Sure, he still had an attitude that could rival that of a hippogriff, but as she thought back to all their interactions since the start of term, she couldn't remember a single instance when he had directed a particularly biting comment her way.

"Let's not think too much on this now," Hermione responded with a blush, the heat still glaringly noticeable between her thighs. "We can help each other through this and then we will see what happens from there."

Draco let out a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin," he muttered before grabbing her hips to flip her over.

Because of the bindings still around her ankles, her legs twisted delicately underneath her. Her face fell into the pillow she had previously been resting on. He chuckled at her small squeak of surprise as he slid his hands up her thighs. With her upper body buried into the bed below and the fold of her legs causing her shapely arse to lift into the air, she made a particularly delicious sight. Unable to resist, he slid her skirt slowly up so it gathered around her waist, exposing her-

_Sweet Salazar. _"What's this? No knickers Granger? How _scandalous._"

Hermione turned her head to the side, a blush very visible on her cheeks. "Well, I'm sorry if my choice of undergarments isn't to your- "

_Smack!_

"Cheeky, cheeky. Do try your best to behave, Granger." He leaned over her to whisper in her ear, "Or not." He nipped at her neck, grasping her hips and grinding against her with his clothed erection.

"Too many clothes," she moaned. "More…please…"

"I've got it, sweetheart, don't worry," Draco whispered hoarsely, the heat affecting him as well. Wasting little time, he pulled open his shirt, barely buttoned from their previous tryst. His belt had been left on the table next to his bed, so he quickly unbuttoned his trousers. Hermione glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him pull out his delectably long, hard cock; she turned to bury her head into her pillow, her blush darkening, missing the way his long fingers wrapped around his length.

She couldn't contain a moan of pleasure as she felt him slide against her slick core. "Feel that? You're absolutely dripping, Granger," Draco growled.

Her back arched as she pressed back against him on reflex. "Don't tease," she breathed. His hands firmly gripped her hips as he slid into her into her, inch by inch. Hermione felt a delicious stretch as her body moved to accommodate him. By the time he was fully seated inside of her, she felt like he had filled out every corner of her insides.

They paused, overwhelmed with the sensation. Hermione felt electricity run down her spine when he slowly withdrew, before slamming back in, their flesh slapping deliciously against each other as their bodies joined once more. Draco's fingers dug into her skin, hard enough to leave bruises. She was too distracted by the overwhelming sensations to notice.

His hand slid from her hip, sensually gliding over her side before he palmed her breast. Hermione drew her hand between her thighs, stroking over the sensitive spot at the apex. Above her, a possessive growl caught at the back of Draco's throat. "Show me how you touch yourself, Granger. What you do when you're alone in your bed in Gryffindor Tower."" Their coupling was rough and intense; their bodies driven by instinct, fueled by the potion. Hermione's legs shook as she grew closer to her climax. She felt Draco's heated body, slick with sweat, mold against her, his hips stuttering as he grew closer to his own peak. As they came, Hermione collapsed with Draco draped over her prone form.

Riding out the quakes and tremors of her orgasm, she returned to her surroundings. Draco's muffled voice vibrated between her shoulder blades as he said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. _Fuck, _I'm sorry."

Laughing at the overwhelming sense of relief she felt post-orgasm, she giggled out, "Sorry for what?"

"I didn't pull out," he hissed, a very un-Malfoy panic in his voice. She almost bucked Draco off as her body began to shake in full-blown, silent laughter. Draco frowned as he lifted himself up to look at her. She untwisted her body slightly so she was resting on her side. "I appreciate the concern," she chuckled, "But I'm on the potion."

Draco's eyes drifted to the ceiling as if thanking some secret deity, then sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin for that," he smirked. "I don't think the world could handle any miniature know-it-alls running around right now." He began redressing and adjusting his clothing.

Hermione twisted her body so she was once more laying on her back as she glanced at Draco with a frown now on her face. She adjusted her clothing in a self-conscious attempt to look decent. Feeling her penetrating gaze on him, Draco looked up. "What?"

"What does _that_ mean? Does the idea truly repulse you?" she asked, anger tinting her voice.

"Don't put words in my mouth," Draco insisted, his voice deepening with intensity. "You and I both know the concept of children are preposterous at this moment in time."

Hermione's frown deepened in thought before her eyes grew wide as Draco moved to stand. "It's gone! The sensations! They're all gone!"

Draco looked at her with a guarded expression. "I guess there was a cure for the potion after all," he responded, his tone almost mournful.

An awkward silence spread between them, neither knowing what to say in the aftermath of such a heavy decision. Draco took slow steps towards her before sitting on the edge of her bed. She clumsily maneuvered herself into a sitting position, wrapping her arms around her legs. He gently reached out to move the hair that had fell in front of her face to behind her ear. "Tell me what's going inside that beautiful know-it-all head of yours."

Blushing at the subtle compliment, she mumbled, "So what now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she fidgeted, running her fingers nervously through her hair, "Do we just ignore this? I don't know how we can. I'm not saying we have to start anything, but to go back after what just happened seems impossible." She was met with a thoughtful pause as he reached down to untie her still restrained ankles from the end of the bed. He tossed the cloth aside before returning to his position beside her.

Draco lifted his hand to trace her bottom lip with his thumb. "Would it be so horrible?"

"What?" she questioned, leaning in to his touch.

"To start this _anything_ you're referring to," he whispered. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned in for a kiss, only to be met with a sudden gust of air.

Her eyes shot open to take in the furious expression of Professor Snape, his hand with a death grip around Draco's arm as they stood near the curtain. "I am completely _bewildered_ by the lack of common sense from what I once regarded as the most intelligent students of your year."

Draco jerked his arm from his grasp, an affronted expression consuming his face. "Before you so quickly make your own deductions, _Professor_, yes we fucked. And _yes_, we are no longer feeling the effects of the potion."

Hermione buried her face in her hands in embarrassment at Draco's crassness, while Professor Snape chose to ignore Draco's choice of words in favor of reflecting upon this new information. "It's just as well. If you had paid _any _attention to the original assignment, you will recall that _Compellere Liquidius, _when made correctly, is a powerful potion meant to compel one to realize their innermost desires."

"So the mistake made when brewing the potion simply intensified the effects? We desired _each other_ all along, and the mistake drove us to a yearning so strong we could only satiate it with coitus?" Draco spoke aloud, rationalizing the Professor's statement.

Hermione's head whipped back and forth, unsure what to do with all of this information at once. She'd been so distracted after her encounter with Ron, she had missed the entire part of Snape's lecture about the true purpose of _Compellere Liquidius_. And _what_ was this casual atmosphere between Draco and Professor Snape? _Who_ would openly talk about sex in front of a teacher as if they were discussing the weather? Her face scrunched up as she was brought back to the mandatory Magical Family Planning class all students had to sit through during their second year—a particularly mortifying segment of her academic career.

"Do be careful with this new information, Draco. I will tell Madam Pomfrey that her services are no longer required, but I do expect you both to return to your houses in a timely manner. Good evening Draco, Miss Granger," Snape concluded as he swept out of the Hospital Wing.

Draco chuckled as he took in Hermione's dumbfounded expression. "He's my godfather, Hermione. It is only natural that he somehow be involved in this, as he has been through all walks of my life."

Hermione nodded her head slightly, unable to associate the harsh Professor with a man who could possibly talk to his godson about such trivialities as youthful desires. He offered out his hand, inviting her to take it. Allowing him to pull her off the bed, Hermione draped her arms around his broad shoulders. "You have to admit, this is odd, especially for us."

"We will take things slow," he promised, holding her hips possessively. "I'd like to see where things go from here."

She sighed in relief before responding dryly, "As long as we don't have to tell Ronald anytime soon, I can handle that. I don't think I can allow a second potions accident to ruin my "know-it-all" reputation."

All Draco could do was throw his head back and laugh.

-END-


End file.
